A/N: In the spirit of the last episode of TFATWS, I dug up and dusted off an old one-shot I wrote way back before Black Panther. It goes with my other Winter Soldier fics, and includes a very adult Shuri. Thanks for reading and please let me know if you enjoy!
Wakanda was never quiet, but there was a sense of peace to be found that Bucky thought was long lost to this world. His home was modest, a far cry from the technological and architectural marvels to be found in the city, and still smaller than the country homes for those who preferred to dwell away from the hustle and bustle. The four walls and roof suited Bucky just fine. From his room he could hear the sounds of the rhinos in the distance, their low lowing like a lullaby. He sat up, his back against the wall, content to simply listen.
It wasn't long before footsteps joined their gentle melody. He would recognize that gait anywhere, quiet though she tended to move. He drew in a breath, wondering how long it would be before he would catch the sweet scent of her perfume, and was not disappointed. She was making no attempt to disguise her approach tonight.
He stood, pausing for a moment to regain his balance. By the time he arrived at his door, she was there, waving from a few yards off. Bucky was grateful for his enhanced sense, for the eyes that allowed him to see her outline against the star dappled horizon.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he called out to her, listening as his voice echoed in the empty space between them.
She only smiled, continuing her steady approach, strolling as though she did this nightly. He stepped back for her, admitting her in. The door closed quietly behind them.
"It's your anniversary," she announced this with the air of someone remarking on the weather, spinning to look at the unadorned walls of his abode. "I thought perhaps you might grace us in the city."
"The less you see of me, the better," Bucky reminded her. "I'm a fugitive."
She shrugged, scoffing, muttering lowly. "Since when have you followed the rules, Sergeant Barnes?"
Wakandan was new to him, but he could make out her words. He did his best to respond in kind, delighted to be able to converse in the lilting tongue. "I thought I would try something new."
She smiled, the wicked grin cutting across her beautiful face. "So did I," she chuckled.
Without a thought, she sat on the edge of his bed, crossing her feet at the ankles. Bucky inhaled sharply, attempting to maintain his tenuous grip on decorum.
"Princess…" he began.
"So formal," she laughed again, the sound dancing like chimes in the narrow space.
"I think you need the reminder," he pointed out. "Your brother-"
"Does not concern himself with my love life," she cut him off. "Running a nation has enough troubles."
"You've both been kinder than I could ever hope to repay," Bucky tried again. "But this-"
"Is that what you think?" She tilted her head, her long braids cascading over one umber shoulder. She was in black tonight, the ebon cloth clinging to the muscled curves of her body, disguising the strength that lurked just beneath. "You think it is sympathy that brings me here?"
Bucky wet his lips, his eyes dropping. "I don't know, Shuri."
She patted the bed beside her. Bucky resisted for a few seconds.
"James," she prompted, amusement coloring her tone. "Don't be stubborn."
With a huff, he joined her, careful to leave space between them. Shuri turned, pressing her knee against his. "You are happy here?" she asked.
"Very," that answer came easily.
"You would consider us friends?" she continued, her full lips quirking in a smile.
"And then some," he sighed. In his life, there had been many women from many places, but none had made the impression that she did.
"You want me to go?" she asked, looking as though she knew the answer. Her hand crept slowly up, brushing over his side and towards his shoulder, over the metallic remnants of an arm he did not miss.
"No," he told her at once, leaning for her.
She kissed with the enthusiasm in which she approached everything, with passionate fervor that left him dizzy. He would never get used to it, her gentle caresses, the scent of her, the taste of her. There was nothing in Wakanda that he felt he had earned, but it was becoming increasingly more impossible to consider leaving at all.
They fell to the mattress. Bucky was content to recline beneath her, busying himself with studying the rounded contours of her nose, her high cheekbones, the bow of her lips. This woman was destined for greatness, destined to shape the world in a new image. He was glad he was alive to see it, to see Wakanda share their knowledge, their values, their strength.
He trailed his hand over her hips, squeezing when she leaned down to grace him with another kiss. Her lips cut a path from his mouth to his neck, pressing sweetly against his heated skin. He returned the favor, nuzzling and licking until her breath began to come in labored gasps. For a moment, he lamented having only one hand, if only because there was no inch of her he didn't yearn to lavish with attention.
She took her time in disrobing, laying the dark fabric to the wayside before starting in on him. Shuri never flinched at the sight of his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him, trapping him between the warmth of her muscular thighs.
"And you wanted me to leave," she giggled. Her laughter transformed into the beginnings of a moan as they came together.
He let her set the pace, cradling her, working his hips beneath hers. All semblance of a clever comeback fled his mind as his senses filled with her instead.
"I don't want you to leave," he managed, pulling her down again to seal his lips against hers.
She lounged against him long into the night, content to listen to the music of the jungle just outside. Bucky felt the beginnings of sleep begin to tug at him, the warm, cosseted feeling that came along with Shuri's presence.
There would come a day, he knew, when the fight must continue, when she would be called to a higher purpose and him back to the front lines. For now, it was enough to lay naked beside her.
Bucky Barnes closed his eyes, falling into a deep, contented sleep.